


love square(d)

by flyler



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Oh you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 04:45:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyler/pseuds/flyler
Summary: Alex is a chemistry teacher at National City High. She has a rather pathetic crush on the gym teacher, Maggie Sawyer. What she doesn't know is that Maggie has a night job: protecting the city as a masked vigilante, known only as Night.Maggie Sawyer is a gym teacher at National City High School, and, yes, she knows she has an admirer or two. Her eyes, though, are on her masked partner in crime, known as Red, but her pursuit has been in vain for the last two years they've worked together.What Maggie doesn't know is Red’s day job: a high school chemistry teacher.





	love square(d)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for the sanvers secret santa for @Ol_Katic on twitter! merry christmas, happy hanukkah, or have a good winter!

"―and _then_ , after I had saved her from the group of those Cadmus men trying to shoot at her, you wanna know what Night said to me?”

Kara munches on her piece of pizza, currently winning her internal bet of how many fries she can steal from Alex’s takeout box before she can notice. Kara knows she won't, though: her sister always has something to say after going on one of her vigilante missions. “What?”

“She says, ‘Those laser guns are pretty cool, but I have some even better guns up my sleeves.’ Then she flexes at me.”

“Well, were they?”

“Were they what?” Alex scrunches her eyebrows at Kara.

“Were they even better?”

Alex huffs at Kara’s smartassery and then, upon realizing Kara had a fry in her fingers, dramatically whisks her takeout box away. “Stop that!”

Kara ignores Alex’s berating. “You know, she just does it to get on your nerves. How long have you two been working together now? She knows you're not _actually_ interested… probably.”

“I dunno, two or so years?” Alex sighs. “But the first year and a half was just, I dunno, stopping robberies. Simple shit like that. Now we’re stopping raids caused by whatever Cadmus is supposed to be. We don't even have any hints on who the ringleader of this mess could be, and we've been working on it for four months. Usually, we’re able to stop these plots by now. Her flirting just grates me even more knowing we don't know what we’re against.”

“Okay, I get it.” Kara snuffles into the snowflake-patterned blanket she’s in. “How’s your flirtatious wiles, then?”

Alex groans. “Shut up.”

“I’m just asking! I never get relationship drama anymore.”

“Yeah,” Alex scoffs, “because being married and having two dogs is terrible.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love James very much, but I also want you to spill.”

Alex sighs. “Well, you know the copy machine in the main teacher’s lounge?” Kara nods. “I was copying periodic table sheets and drinking coffee while I waited and, um… Maggie bent down to get some tupperware from the bottom cabinet.”

“You didn’t.”

“Spill coffee all over the copy machine? I did.”

Kara groans and flops back dramatically over the arm of the couch, her hands outstretched. “Alex, just about the only thing high school kids will do math-wise the week before winter break are those worksheets that you color in squares to make look like a snowman or whatever. I’m gonna have to go to the copy machine near the English teachers. They’re scary, Alex. They have no fear, and they’ll correct grammar in a verbal conversation.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Alex grumbles, “Meanwhile, I took apart the copy machine and if drying out doesn’t fix it, I’m sure the next one will come out of my paycheck.”

“Principal Luthor drives a strict ship,” Kara agrees. “I have no idea why Lena decided to work here instead of moving to Metropolis or something.”

“Maybe Lillian gives her a little more.”

“Trust me, that’s not it,” Kara says. “I’ve been inside her and Sam’s apartment. It looks just like yours.”

“Oh, Sam.” Alex remembers the high school art teacher that had moved down to elementary school. Lena’s girlfriend. She doesn’t understand why so many teachers date each other, quite honestly, because even two salaries are barely livable, but then again, she’d be pretty hypocritical to look down on it. “How’s she doing?”

“Good. She’s been stuck home with a cold twice already, though.” A pause. Kara groans again. “Gosh, Alex, I hope looking at that ass was worth it.”

―――――

Alex is extremely lucky the science teachers have their planning period as the first one of the day. If she, Kara, and James (history teacher) didn’t carpool to school, Alex would take advantage and sleep in. It’s nice, though, having a few moments of peace before her second hour, which are a bunch of sophomores in standard chemistry. She drinks whatever caffeine she was able to get her hands on to prepare herself for whatever impending chaos threatens her that particular day, and usually grades labs.

This morning, though, she’s in the teacher’s lounge, putting the copy machine back together, and praying to anything and everything out there that it works when she’s done.

“Hey, Danvers.” Alex looks up to see the _reason_ she spilled coffee on the copy machine in the first place looking down at her. “You seem to be having a good time.”

“Isn’t your planning period fourth hour?” Alex snaps, and the blushes when she realizes a) her tone and b) the fact that she just admitted she knows Maggie’s schedule.

Maggie shrugs, refilling her thermos. “Gym’s an elective, and there’s another coach. I have two. You need help?”

“No,” Alex sighs. “I’m fine. It’s not the technology itself I’m worried about, it’s whether it’s in working condition. Copy machines aren’t hard; I’ve built computers before.”

Maggie whistles, impressed, and Alex wonders if the red is ever going to come out of her cheeks. “Yeah,” she continues, “I just, you know, did them in my free time, mostly. Sometimes I’d get money from fixing broken ones. I… I’m rambling now. Sorry.”

“It’s cute.” Maggie grins, dimples in effect. “And, by the way, you have a little printer ink on your shirt.”

Alex looks down to see big and black splashes of ink on her white, button down shirt. “Dammit.”

“I have a change of clothes in my office, if you want. It’s not…” Maggie indicates Alex’s outfit, “as nice, but it’s not stained, so…”

“That’s fine! Let me just…” Alex clicks the last piece of the copy machine into place and presses the power button. When it whirs to life, she sighs in relief. “Okay. Lead the way.”

―――――

“Hey, isn’t that Coach Sawyer’s shirt?”

Alex looks down at the cross country shirt from a few years ago she’s currently wearing. She looks back at the high schooler who asked the question. “It is. I spilled something on myself this morning and she helped me.”

As the kids go back to their experiment and start gossiping back and forth about the _real_ reason why Alex could possibly be wearing another woman’s clothing, Alex internally groans and tries to concentrate on the test she’s making for her AP students.

During lunch, Alex is almost halfway through test-making when there’s a knock on the door and Kara comes striding in.

“Don’t you and James go to Noonan’s?” Alex asks.

“I made him get to-go alone,” Kara says. “I had to see if the rumors going around about you wearing a certain someone’s clothes were true. According to my Trig kids, you and Sawyer had steamy sex in the teacher’s lounge and she ripped all the buttons off your shirt, which is why you had to change.”

Alex huffs. “I spilled printer ink on my shirt! That’s what I _told_ them, but do they listen? No. They have to make everything dirty. Little gremlins. I teach little gremlins for a living.”

“What can you expect, Alex? Your crush on her is so obvious even the kids have figured it out. This time, you can’t really blame their minds for going instantly to the gutter.”

“Well, I do. Now, I’m gonna finish making this test and eat my salad and be sad. Go away.”

Kara throws her hands up in defense and swivels, walking out the door.

―――――

Alex has two phones: one everyone knows about, and one with only one contact number. Grabbing the latter, she dials its one number. When it picks up, she asks, “Wanna do an inspection tonight? See if anything looks suspicious?”

“Sure,” she answers, and she hangs up. She and Night always meet at the same place: a 24-hour donut place called Insomnia. A small business, its owners― a middle aged couple― don’t seem to mind two vigilantes eating there several times a week. The police have never been called.

To be fair, they tip well.

Alex’s suit is worn under her civilian clothes― she and the computer programming teacher, Winn Schott (a good friend of Kara’s since college, who knows better than to open his mouth about Alex’s night job) had used a specific, breathable fiber so Alex wouldn’t sweat up a storm every day.

Alex’s― Red’s― outfit was skintight and maroon, with a hood and mask to match. Her only weaponry was a sheath for a katana she always had near her (usually stored under the backseat of her two-door sedan) and two hip holsters where she had two laser guns― again, courtesy of her and Winn’s heads put together. The lasers were blue. She liked them.

She knew Night had a gun or two as well, along with a toolbelt that had equipment such as a grappling hook, a taser, and some smoke bombs. Alex can remember when Night had first emerged― Alex has been a part of this city since her college days when she’d take out guys picking up too-drunk girls, but Night had appeared just a few years ago. Teamwork had never been Alex’s strong suit, but they were able to work together, enough to where Alex trusted her enough to not bring grappling hooks and tasers of her own.

She had learned about a year ago, during one of their harder missions, that Night always had two on her.

When Alex’s entrance to the donut shop is signaled by a tinkling bell, she notices Night is already there, in her costume (similar to Alex in that it has a hood and mask, but the material is different, and it’s a dark black), gorging on the rest of a jelly donut.

“Seriously?” Alex greets. “You have…” She motions around her face where powdered sugar and spots of jelly are on Night’s face. She’s about to wipe it off herself when she sees Night’s dark eyes sparkle, dimples deep.

_Not tonight_ , she thinks. The betraying thought of _Those aren’t the dimples you care about, anyway!_ makes it to her brain before she’s able to swat it away, and she keeps from grumbling. She grabs a napkin and indignantly hands it to Night, who pouts when she has to clean the mess off her face herself. “Anyway,” she says, “just a once-over? See if anything with whatever Project Cadmus is will further?” _  
_

Night tosses the napkin in the trash. “Yeah, sure. Ugh, we’ve known about this for months and we still know barely anything about it…” Night sees Alex walk towards the door and asks, “Wait, you don’t want a donut?”

“Not hungry,” is Alex’s answer, and she leaves, Night following closely behind.

 

Maggie prides herself in many things, and one of them is able to woo women. Red, though? Red is a tough nut to crack. Sometimes she enjoys it, sometimes she doesn’t― tonight is one of the nights she doesn’t. Something is obviously on Red’s mind, and Maggie knows Red tries to keep too much of a professional relationship to spill her personal drama onto what’s basically a coworker.

They’re standing on a roof, kind of like in the comics, Maggie thinks, and they can tell two Cadmus-looking goons are having a conversation out in the dark alleyway, but they can’t tell what the conversation’s about.

Red takes her phone they use to communicate and presses a few buttons. “I’m going to hack into their microphones. If at least one of them has a phone and it’s on, we’ll be able to hear what they’re saying.”

“You still won’t tell me how you get all this cool techy stuff,” Maggie says.

Red shrugs. “I know a guy.” After pressing a few more buttons, she says, “Here.”

The speaker on the phone crackles, and a voice is heard. “Why the high school, though?”

“Sounds unsuspecting, maybe?” the other voice asks. “Look, I don’t really care why she wants us to be there. Boss wants us to be there the night of that stupid dance, probably cause she has to be there anyway. We go in when she says, and then we do what she says. That’s all I care about.”

There’s a sigh, and then the first voice speaks again. “Fine… I don’t really know what’s going on, but I guess that’s better than the end. The dance is at six next Friday, right?”

“Right.” The second figure says his goodbyes and then walks away.

Maggie and Red are left alone on the roof. “... So.” She breaks the silence. “The high school?”

“I’m assuming it’s National City High,” Red says. “The students are having a winter ball this upcoming Friday. Whatever the boss of Cadmus has planned… something’s gonna happen at that dance.”

“How do you know there’s a dance?” Maggie asks.

Red, caught off-guard, clears her throat before answering. “I, uh, have some contacts there.”

“ _Contacts_? Oh, you mean friends in your little weird I’m-secretive language. You don’t look to excited about that dance.”

“Yeah, well, winter ball is just a nice way of saying Christmas ball, but without the repreminading for not being inclusive or diverse enough.”

“What?” Maggie asks. “Hate Christmas? You some sort of Scrooge?”

Red rolls her eyes. “I’m Jewish. Not, like, hardcore, but growing up with Christmas decorations everywhere was… kind of annoying, honestly.”

Maggie blinks. “Oh, okay. I get that. Not a big fan of it myself. Brings up memories.”

There’s an awkward silence, then, one so quiet Maggie thinks they’d probably be able to hear a pin dropped on the street several stories below them. Because even though they’ve worked together for years now, they still don’t know that much about each other. Not even icebreakers, like favorite color or middle name.

“Anyway,” Red says. “Text if you need anything? I feel like the most we should be doing until that high school dance is prepare.”

“Yeah,” Maggie says. “Sure.” Red is about to walk to the other side of the roof (to probably climb down the fire escape Maggie knows is there, because what sort of vigilante takes stairs?) when Maggie calls out, “Wait!”

Red whips around, and Maggie can’t see much, but those brown eyes always make Maggie’s knees go a little weak. “What?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

An eyebrow raise. “... My favorite color?”

“I’d assume it’s red, since that’s your na―”

“It’s not.”

“What?”

“It’s blue.”

And then Red is gone.

―――――

The next day, Wednesday, Maggie wears blue. It’s a rare day― she’s wearing jeans. Finals are coming up, though, and she’s always told her students, ones that she coaches or not, that academics come first. She’s given her kids a study day, so today, she wears a blue button down and some skinny jeans.

She takes an unusual trip to the library to check out a classic she can read while making sure her kids use their study time correctly. She’d forgotten the one she was currently reading at home.

At one of the firsts study cubbies she walks upon, she sees a tearful student, young enough that Maggie guesses it’s an underclassmen. Before she can ask what’s wrong, she sees Alex Danvers almost power walk to the student, asking a, “Hey, is everything okay?”

Maggie is too far and Alex and the student are too quiet for her to hear, but she knows consoling when she sees it. A minute or two is all it takes and the student’s eyes are drying, and they’re nodding at whatever Alex is saying, and then Alex pats the kid’s back and walks away.

“Hey, Danvers!” Maggie whispers when Alex is far away enough from the study cubby, and the other woman whips around.

“Oh, um, hello Miss Sawyer,” Alex says.

“Aww, c’mon, I think we know each other well enough to be on a first name basis.”

“I’m not saying we aren’t.” Alex rolls her eyes. “The students―”

“The students think we know each other well enough to spread rumors about us doing things in the teacher’s lounge.” Alex blushes at this. “I’m sure they won’t care about us calling each other by our firsts names… or, maybe it’ll make the rumors fly even more. Who knows?”

“I don’t think I’m a big fan of that,” Alex grumbles.

“Aww, I’m a little hurt,” Maggie says, which just causes Alex to blush harder. She’s cute, and Maggie’s caught her staring every once in a while. If Maggie didn’t have her eye on someone else… Well. “Regardless, I just wanted to say it was nice of you to take care of that student there. Your words seemed to help.”

Alex’s back straightens a little at the compliment. “Of course. Part of the job, isn’t it? Her name’s Cassie. She was in my advanced chemistry class last year when she was only a freshman. Smart as a whip, you know? But with that always comes high expectations for yourself. You see a B, even on a single paper or test… it feels terrible.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Alex’s eyes soften. “Yeah. Well, if you excuse me,” she says, motioning towards the library’s double doors, “I was just returning a laptop cart, I have some papers to grade…”

“Of course! I don’t want to keep you. But,” Maggie adds, “I do wanna say, nice sweater.”

Alex glances down at her blue and white sweater, adorned with a pattern consisting of embroidered cats playing with dreidels. “Oh, thanks. I figured, if people can wear ugly Christmas sweaters, why can’t I wear ugly Hanukkah ones?”

Maggie can’t help but reply with, “Ugly? I think it’s cute. Of course, the person makes the outfit.”

“Okay, now you’re just playing. Good _bye_ , Miss Sawyer.”

And Maggie doesn’t really get it, because while she likes being at the center of a woman’s admiration, flirting still isn’t something that comes extremely natural to her, except with one or two women. And one of those…

Maggie grabs the first classic-looking book she can find, a Jane Austen novel, and she walks to the checkout.

As she’s walking to the gym, she gets a text from her vigilante phone. It reads: _I’ve been thinking about it and the boss could possibly be a staff member? That one guy DID say she was going to be there regardless. Thoughts?_

Maggie sends back a, _Could seem like it._ , and goes on.

―――――

Friday evening comes before Maggie realizes it, and now she has to chaperone for the Winter ball. She’s dressed in a white button up and black slacks. The first other staff member she sees is Kara Danvers, wearing a golden sweater and floral patterned slacks.

“Hi!” Kara says. “Ready to hand out punch to kids who wish it were spiked?”

“Of course,” Maggie laughs. When Maggie gets there, she sees Alex is already manning the station.

“Have fun!” Kara says, and Maggie sees her try to sneakily give a wink at an Alex who glares back.

“Some secret sister code I’m not allowed to know about?”

“Yeah,” Alex says. “You can put it that way.”

The dance starts out okay. Maggie sees Alex checking her phone― one that’s a little out of date, if Maggie were to be honest, and Maggie wishes she could check her own phone to see if Red had texted anything. The most interesting thing that had happened in the first hour was that some kid spilled punch all over his shirt, and Maggie and Alex had to clean it up.

All of a sudden, though, things start going absolutely crazy.

Principal Luthor was supposed to give a speech about family during the holidays, but instead, she's toting _some_ huge ray gun Maggie doesn’t even _want_ to know about, and kids are screaming, but men in tactical gear are blocking all the exits.

_Cadmus_ , Maggie realizes.

“What's that thing supposed to do, anyway?” a voice cries out. Maggie recognizes it as Mike Matthews, one of those dumbass coaches that gives coaches who can actually teach (Maggie) a bad name.

“Why don't we see?” the principal says, and shoots the gun at Coach Matthews. There's screams, and then a cry.

The guy was turned into a fucking _baby_.

“Adults are so… unnecessary, you see,” Principal Luthor says, “especially ones you know won't agree with you. Kids, too, can be annoying like that. Raise them wrong, raise them too far from you… but babies? Babies can make an army.”

Maggie has got to do something.

When Maggie closes and locks the door to her office, she doesn't expect Alex to be there, unbuttoning her shirt.

“Whoa, there!” Maggie exclaims. “Why are you undressing in my office?”

“Look, I don’t have much time to explain, okay?” Through the semi-darkness, Maggie can see Alex throw her shirt onto Maggie’s desk. “You need to stay in here. Trust me, okay? And… don’t tell anyone.”

“Don't tell anyone what?”

The lights flicker on, and there stands Alex, tying a mask to her face that Maggie knows _all_ too well.

“Oh, you've got to be fucking joking.”

Alex bristles. “Excuse me?”

“Why do you think I was coming into my office?” Maggie walks over to her desk and takes out the duffle bag that's underneath it. Setting it on top of her desk (and Alex’s shirt, but, like, semantics), she unzips it and takes out her own costume.

Alex’s mouth starts opening and closing like a fish out of the water. She points at the costume. “That’s…” Her pointing moves to Maggie, and it becomes accusatory. “You. This _whole_ time. With your flirting, your terrible pick up lines and comments…”

“Hey!” Maggie says, the feeling of being offended evident in her tone. “I thought those were _good_. Endearing, even. _You’re_ the one who had a schoolgirl crush on me and didn't even―”

“It wasn’t a schoolgirl crush.” Maggie stares at her. “What? It wasn't!”

A crash interrupts their conversation.

“We’ll continue this later,” Alex says, taking off her pants to reveal the bottom part of her crimefighting outfit. “I’m gonna go ahead and go out there. You…” Her eyes give a once over on Maggie, and Maggie feels something start at the small of her back when she realized Alex is taking a little bit of advantage of the situation, but knows better than to comment on it. “You get changed. I’m going to go after the lackies blocking the doors. You… you get our boss. Try close hand-to-hand combat, because I don’t want to scar the students. Turning people into babies to make her own army or some shit… This is so ridiculous.”

Maggie just snickers and gives a two-finger salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

―――――

Maggie gets dressed at lightning speed and uses the dark atmosphere of the dance’s lighting for cover. She spots Red― Alex _fucking_ Danvers, she reminds herself― standing close to some of the men, and nods.

Alex instantly gets to work, taking out the men like some sort of ninja. Maggie knew she'd have some sort of fighting skills, being a vigilante, but this was to an intensity she'd never seen before.

It was pretty hot, she'd admit.

Maggie sneaks across the wall to get to the makeshift stage that Lillian Luthor was standing on. A few kids had noticed her, wide-eyed, and she'd put a shushing finger on her lips as a response. Before she could step foot on the stage, though, Lillian spots her and aims her gun at Maggie.

“I don't think so,” the principal spits, and Maggie raises her hands up immediately. “You don't think I’ve noticed you and your friend spying on my meetings? And your friend better stop unless they want their partner to be six months old.” Maggie turns and sees Alex, a trail of about four unconscious men at her wake, suddenly halt her movement. “That's what I thought.”

“Why babies, though?” Maggie says in the gruffiest voice she can.

“Like I’m going to explain my plan to you. Just know I need them. I already have one, don't I? And you'll be next―” Before Lillian can finish, something knocks against her head, and she falls down, instantly unconscious.

Lena Luthor stands behind her, empty punch bowl in hand.

“... Thank you,” Maggie says, still in her vigilante tone. She zip ties Lillian’s hands behind her back just in case, and if she looks to her right, she can see Alex doing the exact same to the lackies, only about six of them in all. Maggie wonders which ones they had heard a few minutes ago. “Call the police.”

Lena nods, taking out her phone, and Maggie runs to Alex. “Need anything?” she asks.

“No, I used decorating ribbon and tied all of their hands, as well as collect their guns.” She holds a bag. “Figured I’ve give them to Kara to hold until the police arrive. And, yes, she knows. We need to change before people start asking where we are.”

Maggie nods. After quickly exiting and then going back in, through the vents, into Maggie’s office, Alex and Maggie back into the gym, both in civilian clothing, panting.

“Everyone okay?” Maggie asks. When the students around her nod in a shaky, but honest affirmation, she sighs in relief. “Okay, well, parent pick ups are starting in the main parking lot. Make sure you check out with Miss Luthor. Lena, that is.” When a few students give her a wary eye, she continues. “Come on, you really think she knew about this? Give the woman credit. I’m sure she's just as traumatized, probably more, than the rest of us.”

As the students shuffle out, Alex walks up next to her, looking around at the wreckage that had been caused by panicking students and teachers alike. “Looks like your class periods for the next day or two will be outside while this all gets cleaned up, huh?”

“Probably,” Maggie says, and then she groans. “Kids hate the cold. They're gonna complain the whole time…. But, by the way, nice moves. Where'd you learn that?”

“I box,” is Alex’s answer. “I also know some self defense. I teach classes at the gym sometimes.”

“I don’t know how I haven't seen you there. I’m there several times a week, if I can be.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks. “Is that how you stay in shape?”

“I guess. I wanted to be a police officer for the longest time as a kid. Worked out to get the body and when I realized I wanted to teach, the workout stuck.” Maggie notices something above them. “Hey, look at that.”

Alex looks up and blushes. “Mistletoe. Who’d’ve thought.”

“Yeah, too bad, though.” Maggie sighs dramatically. “You were pretty obvious about your hatred of Christmas tradition and decoration that night on the roof, so I guess it―”

Alex tugs her by her shirt and kisses her before she can finish. 


End file.
